For centuries, the Ozark hills have harbored legends, whispered tales of lost treasure, ghostly figures, and unexplained creatures. But none have captured imaginations quite like the White River Monster—an aquatic enigma lurking beneath the waters near Newport, Arkansas.
While no one can say for sure when “Whitey” first surfaced, official records of sightings date back to the early 1900s. The monster has been described as a Loch-Ness-style creature with the “hide of a wet elephant” and a presence that both terrified and intrigued onlookers. Over the years, people have speculated that it was anything from an overturned boat to an enormous fish. The mystery was deemed important enough that, in 1973, Arkansas legislators officially designated a portion of the White River as the White River Monster Sanctuary and Refuge—making it illegal to harm the beast, should it ever appear again.
But was Whitey a hoax, a case of mistaken identity, or something real lurking beneath the depths?
The Early Sightings (1915–1937)
The first known encounter was reported in 1915, when a plantation owner near the river spotted a massive, gray-skinned creature drifting just beneath the surface. Unable to identify it, he watched as it disappeared into the depths, leaving nothing but ripples and unanswered questions.
It wasn’t until 1937 that the legend took center stage again. Multiple eyewitnesses—including prominent plantation owner Bramlett Bateman—claimed to have seen the creature rise from the water. Bateman described it as “the size of a boxcar, with peeling, grayish skin and the face of a catfish.” The beast would surface for a few moments before sinking back down, leaving only bubbles in its wake.
Panic and fascination swept through the town of Newport. As news spread, the local chamber of commerce seized the moment. Despite denying accusations that it was a publicity stunt, they built fences, erected ticket booths, and charged 25 cents for admission to the “search area.” Hundreds of onlookers arrived, many carrying rifles, hoping to be the first to catch a glimpse of the monster—or shoot it.
Some were determined to capture Whitey alive. A man named W.E. Penix led an effort to round up every available rope in town to build a giant net in an attempt to entangle the beast. Others believed brute force was necessary—one man even brought a machine gun, though the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission quickly outlawed the use of firearms or explosives.
The excitement reached its peak when a former Navy diver, C.R. Brown, was hired to investigate the riverbed. Spectators gathered as loudspeakers broadcast his every move underwater. For a moment, the crowd believed they had finally spotted Whitey—only to realize it was just a dead hog floating downstream.
The dive was cut short due to rising floodwaters and a malfunction in the diver’s air valve, which caused him to shoot to the surface like a cork. Meanwhile, another rival diver, David Smythe, attempted to search for the monster using a homemade diving rig made from an old gasoline tank and a bicycle pump—but he, too, came up empty-handed.
Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, Whitey was gone.
A Hoax or a Hidden Creature? (1940 & Beyond)
In 1940, two local brothers caught a 220-pound fish, leading some to speculate that the monster was simply an oversized aquatic animal. The creature was displayed in front of Bob’s Meat Market for the public to judge for themselves.
Later that year, a man came forward with a confession: he had staged the whole thing. According to his story, he had been collecting valuable sand shells—used for making jewelry and knife handles—and wanted to scare off other fishermen. To accomplish this, he had overturned a boat, tied it to hidden roots, and pulled it to the surface whenever curious onlookers arrived.
But even if his claim explained some of the commotion, it didn’t account for the three-toed footprints, crushed vegetation, and broken tree limbs found along the riverbanks in the 1970s. Reports described a creature with a gray horn, and 14-inch footprints were discovered near the water’s edge.
The legend persisted enough that, in 1973, the Arkansas Legislature passed a law creating the White River Monster Refuge and Sanctuary, protecting Whitey from harm should it ever resurface.
Since then, sightings have dwindled. Some speculate that Whitey was a stray manatee or a giant alligator gar, a fish that can grow up to 12 feet long. Others suggest that it was a prehistoric survivor, an undiscovered species, or even something supernatural.
Today, the White River Monster lives on in folklore. At Jacksonport State Park, visitors can hear presentations on the legend. During Christmas, a Whitey decoration floats on the lake, a reminder that the monster still holds a place in Arkansas history.
And, as park interpreter Vicky Schoeneweis puts it:
“I’m not necessarily a believer, but I’m not a disbeliever, either. We don’t know all that’s on the Earth.”
Starting April 1, Whitey’s Wake unfolds over four weeks—interviews, archives, and boots-on-the-ground hunting from 1915 to now. Is Whitey real? A guardian? A menace? Follow us through April 22—we’re diving in.
